On The Street
by TeamGwenee
Summary: Poor Edith. Poor Bertie. Quite literally. A Victorian AU one shot.
A pigeon. A nice, fat, juicy Pigeon. Edith cradled the limp thing in her hand, it's neck hanging oddly. She had gotten quite good at snapping their necks, doing it so swiftly they barely had time to struggle. She quickly stowed it down her front and hurried quickly away from the square before a Peeler found her and accused her of begging. She slipped down an alleyway and wound her way past cramped, grimy houses, ducking under laundry lines and dodging rubbish piles when she could.

O'Brien had sent her down the Market Place to try and filcher some fruit off the stools whilst the stall holders set up, but by the time she got there the stalls were set up and the owners had their eyes on the look out for ne'er do wells. She was too late to get any fruit or veg, but the now dead pigeon clearly had more than its fair share, it was so plump.

Finally, she reached the end of a long row of small, filthy buildings that were squeezed against each other like sardines in a tin. Behind the thin walls and glassless windows she could hear the wailing of babies and wailing of children. The shack she stopped at was conspicuously quiet. Looking over her shoulder she knocked seven times. Three times quickly, then two slowly, then two quick again. She waited for a moment, before the door slowly creaked open.

Edith let out a slight grin as she saw Bertie pull the door open for her. Seeing her smile, his own face lit up and he hurried her inside.

"Did you get anything?" he asked eagerly, his colourless shirt hanging loosely off his sharp shoulders.

Edith proudly produced the fat pigeon, holding right in his face so he could see just how fat it was. Seeing Bertie run his eyes over the dead bird, she felt her confidence waver and stomach squirm with nerves.

"Do you think it will do?" she asked anxiously.

"We could have a Christmas dinner with that," he assured her.

"Edie!" Edith heard a voice cry, "Some toff has been round these parts, looking for a girl who sounds a lot like you,"

Edith spun round to see Thomas, an elder boy, glaring down at her.

"You haven't been robbing no toff have ya? O'Brien won't be happy if ya have?"

"Course not," she said quickly, "I stick to Market Stalls, like she said. I went this morning,"

"Did you get anything?" Thomas demanded.

Bertie showed him the pigeon.

Thomas snorted. "They sell pigeons at stalls now?"

"Well if toffs are out looking for me then I don't want to risk stealing nothing, not when there are nice fat pigeons free for taking,"

"I got a Gold Chain off some drunk bloke last night," Mary announced smugly.

Edith pursed her lips. "Lovely," she sneered, "I'm sure that will taste awful nice with a few carrots and a spud,"

Mary rolled her eyes. "O'Brien was dead impressed. She's showing it to her man this minute,"

Bertie shuffled his feet. "I love pigeon," he informed Edith. "I don't think I've had meat in ages,"

"If O'Brien wasn't soft you wouldn't ever have any meat. When was the last time you brought anything back? Two weeks ago? And what was it, some grimy handkerchief filled with some old codger's snot,"

"Mary, shut it," Edith hissed, moving to stand by Bertie's shoulder.

Bertie just shrugged awkwardly, "It doesn't matter. She ain't being a liar or nothing,"

Edith squeezed his hand. "She is being a lot of other things though,"

The door creaked open and a deep, booming voice was heard from the doorway.

"Edith! What's this I hear about some toff sticking her nose in and asking after you?"

Edith squeezed Bertie's hand tighter as she turned to look O'Brien in the eye.

"Are you sure it's me the toff is asking after?"

"Well, I don't know many other carrot tops with big noses of about fourteen years running round here. So I'll ask ye again, what's this I hear about some toff sticking her nose in and asking after you?"

Edith racked her brain, trying to think of why a posh lady would ask after her. Suddenly, she remembered how about a week ago she had been making sad eyes at a well to do looking woman who was sailing up and down the next street like she owned it, not caring when she got mud all over the bottom of her hem. O'Brien had given Edith a walloping for spilling the rest of her beer and Edith knew she looked particularly pathetic and downcast that day. As a result she spent the best part of eight hours hanging around in the rain hoping to get a bit of change and sympathy.

She thought she had struck gold when a kind eyed lady swept over. But then she started asking all these questions like how old are you and why aren't you at school. Edith's mouth went dry and she legged it, only telling Bertie about the incident as they sat up whilst the others slept, watching the fire die.

She had forgotten the entire thing until now. Looking up into O'Brien's hard, cold eyes, she clenched her fists in her skirt and lied.

"I've no idea,"

DA

O'Brien liked the pigeon, as did Mary and Thomas and Alfred and Jimmy. Bertie and Edith had to make do with some stale bread and dripping. Bertie because he hadn't gotten a hold of anything in weeks, and Edith for attracting the attention of a toff. The aches in her belly stopped her from getting any sleep, so she quietly stood up from her spot on the floor and edged over to Bertie. She lay down beside him and smiled as he wrapped an arm round her, pulling her close against him. The warmth of his body nearly lulled her to sleep when she heard the door bang open. Her eyes shot open and she moved to see who it was, but Bertie grabbed hold of her and held her still.

O'Brien stumbled over the slumbering bodies, the whiff of whisky on her breath and roughly shook Thomas awake.

"Thomas," she hissed, "When sun's up wake all but Edith up and take 'em down the square. Make sure you don't make any noise, and keep 'em distracted till noon,"

Blinking and squinting up at O'Brien, he frowned in confusion. "Why do I gotta do that then?"

"I ran into that Mr Greene down at the local, he told me that he was looking for some new girls and I told them he could have Edith for a price. He's coming over tomorrow to fetch her and I don't want the others round whilst he's here. Especially not Bertie. I've got to get rid of him two. He's no good, and if Edith is catching people's eyes then I need her gone soon as possible,"

Edith stared at the two figures illuminated against the dying fire. She felt oddly flat and empty. All she could think about was how kind O'Brien and Thomas both seemed when they found her at the age of five, huddled up in a doorway. O'Brien had patted her on the shoulder and it made her feel so safe. The last person who had done that was the quack who had come to see her mother and told her that her mam wouldn't be making it through the night. It was then he told her she would probably have to go into a Work House.

Work House. Those two words that had been the bane of her mother's life, the bogey man under her bed. She couldn't go there. Wasn't it avoiding that place that pushed her mother to work days and nights to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, even if the roof was shared by three other families and rotting, and the food was stale and scanty. It was better than the Work House, the second to last destination of the defeated and broken traveller's road, just one stop before Bedlam. She couldn't go to a Work House. It was a fear of that place that drove her into the streets and into O'Brien's clutches.

But now she was older and aware that there were worse places she could go.

Lying stiff in Bertie's arms, she waited until she heard snoring from O'Brien's corner of the room, before rolling over to meet him face to face. She didn't have to see to know what Bertie looked like, to know the fear in his eyes. She felt it in the way he clutched at her arm and held her close.

Without a word, she nodded softly and slowly stood, silent as a mouse. Bertie quietly followed suit. They both stiffened as they heard another body move and footsteps approach them.

"Heard every word of that did ya'?" Thomas whispered gruffly. It was pitch black and he couldn't see them, but they nodded. They were scared shitless, too frightened to speak. Edith's eyes drifted over to O'Brien's corner of the room, where the sleeping dragon let out a snort.

"You two need to get out of here now," Thomas whispered urgently. "Get as much stuff as you can carry and for Gawd's sake do it quietly. If the bitch wakes up I'm not covering for you,"

Edith and Bertie did as they were ordered and gathered their things together. Their few meagre possessions that even O'Brien didn't want. Edith took each small treasure she kept in her boots and stowed them down her front. A scrap of lace from a lady's petticoat that had been snagged on a gate that Edith once spotted. It was the size of her finger and couldn't be sold for pittance, but the lace had a lovely floral pattern. A prettily made but rusty and tarnished butterfly hat pin she found on the ground and finally a stone Bertie had gave her after he found it by the Thames whilst looking for pennies. The stone held a vague resemblance to a heart in shape, and Edith treasured it.

They both pulled on any clothes or blankets at hand and tugged them over the clothes they were already wearing, before creeping towards the door. Bertie opened it gently so as to not make a sound, but still it creaked. Edith froze, but thankfully the noise woke no one up, and she made her way out into the bitter cold, followed by Thomas. There were no stars in the sky that night and it would be some time until dawn. Edith shuddered and reached out for Bertie's hand.

Thomas grabbed both Edith's and Bertie's shoulders and briskly marched them down the street. He said not a word and instead focussed on getting them away from the house as quickly as possible. Now fully awake and alert, the two strove to keep up with their unexpected saviour, both fearing what their fates would have in store if O'Brien found them.

They walked and walked until they were out of the slums and back in the market place. Thomas looked up anxiously at the sky and noted that it had faded to a washed out blue and they could now make out their surroundings without the aid of streetlamps. He let go of them and turned to face them seriously, his handsome face half in shadows. He whipped out a calling and waved it in Edith's face, making sure he had her attention.

"Listen," he said, "You need to find this address and this lady," he jabbed the top of the card, "She told me her name is Mrs Crawley,"

"When did she tell you that?" Edith demanded.

"When she came nosing around the other day. She told me she ran some charity for needy children and she thought you met the requirements. She told me that if I found you or someone like you I was to send you her way. Well, they don't come needier than you two so off you go,"

"Why are you only telling us now?" Bertie asked.

"Because I wasn't about to turn you over and have her interfering, but when I found out what O'Brien had in store for you I had to get you away from that place," he explained.

"Wait, aren't you coming with us?" Edith said, her voice shaking slightly.

"Nah, I'm not a needy kid am I. I stopped being a child the day I turned eighteen. Come to think of it, I stopped being a child the day I met O'Brien," he shook his head, "But that doesn't matter. What matters is you finding that lady and that address and getting away from here as soon as possible. Because the minute I get back I'm going to be waking O'Brien up and telling her that you scarpered. And I don't want to know what she will do to you if she finds you,"

Edith pursed her lips and blinked quickly. She took the card and pointed at the words. "Are you certain this says her name?" she asked.

Thomas nodded, his face darkening. "She only went and spelled it out to me, like I was some simpleton who couldn't read,"

"But Thomas," Bertie pointed out, "You can't read,"

"Shut it," Thomas hissed, "Now scram. Cause I'm not helping you a second time,"

At that, he turned his back on them and disappeared into the dark.

DA

Edith woke with a start to find a harsh faced Copper glaring down at her. He grabbed her shoulder and roughly shook her, before hauling both her and Bertie up off the steps where they had been sleeping and onto the floor. Edith winced as her hands grazed against the gravel. She stumbled to her feet, only to be kicked back down by the Copper's boot.

"What you two do doing round here?" the Copper barked and Bertie helped Edith to her feet, "Go on, move it!"

Steeling herself, Edith looked into the Copper's eyes and proffered him the card.

"Beg ya pardon mister, but we need to find this address,"

The Copper just glared and brushed away the card, before giving Bertie a whack on the forehead and ordering them both to move it once more. Seeing that the Copper was going to be of no use, the two of them hurried off. They stumbled down cobbled, filthy streets, showing the card to who ever looked the least threatening, only to be repeatedly told to scram.

They walked and walked until their feet were worn to the bone. They had not eaten since the night before, and Edith was already on the lookout for her next meal. But no one in the area they found themselves in had anything worth pilchering, and if they did they were sure to guard it with their life. Gaunt eyes stared at them as they passed by, a group of children of that could be any age huddled round a small fire over which they roasted a skinned animal. Skin sagged off sharp bones like loose fitting clothes and their hunched backs screamed 'hunger!'

If O'Brien had not taken her in, Edith realised, she could have ended up like them. If this Mrs Crawley did not help them, they would. Despite her growing weariness, she picked up her pace and hurried past, anxious to get away from those streets lest she stuck there. Bertie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they hurried along, heads down and eyes on the floor, trying to avoid getting anyone's attention.

Finally they reached a street that was slightly less dilapidated than the others. The people they passed had flesh on their skin and seemed to walk in a hurry. Over the pungent smell of manure and sweat, Edith could just make out the smell of freshly made pastries, meat and vegetables. She dug her elbow into Bertie's ribs and nodded in the direction of where the smell was coming from. They followed it, until they came across a market place full of stalls and respectable looking folk in darned coats and polished boots. Not fine ladies or gentlemen by any means, but people who at least seemed assured of where there next meal was coming from.

But lurking in the corners, Edith spied others like them. Hidden by shadows and eyeing up the food stalls with undisguised longing. Edith ran her eyes over the stalls and spotted a Greengrocer's. He was busying himself attending to his cabbages, and had momentarily taken his eyes off a cart full of carrots. Bright and orange as gold, they seemed to radiate life. Vegetables such as carrots had sustained Edith for years, yet these carrots seemed so fresh and sweet, so different to the soft, pulpy brown mush that she had lived on.

She had to have one.

The cart was overflowing with carrots, and his stall as full of other produce. One carrot would not be missed. With Bertie acting as lookout, she silently edged towards the stall. Her skeletal hand wrapped round the tip of one carrot hanging off the edge of the cart. She grabbed it and turned to run, upsetting the rest of the cart as she did.

Bugger, she had forgotten carrots came in bunches.

Before she was two steps away and beefy hand planted itself on her shoulder and Edith came face to face with the grocer, his face red and purple.

"Run Bertie!" she cried, before twisting her head and sinking her teeth into the Greengrocer's wrist. He yelped in pain as blood swelled round Edith's teeth. He snatched his bloodied hand back, only for Edith to kick him in the shin and be dragged away by Bertie.

"Stop, thief!" the grocer cried, causing a passing by Copper to set off after them.

The pair fled down a cobbled, twisting alley way, with the Copper hot on their heels. Bertie's hand was wrenched from hers as they turned a sharp corner and Edith stumbled over the cobbles. Bertie did not see Edith had fallen until the Copper caught up with them. Anxious for him to not lose any distance, she cried for him to keep running.

The Copper bent over her and went to grab a hold of her. Edith swung up her fist and landed a solid punch on the Copper's nose, causing him step back and fall against the wall. She clambered to her feet, her escape hindered by one of her boots coming loose. The Copper caught a hold of her wrist with an iron grip. Unable to shake herself free, she used her spare hand to tug off her boot and whacked him repeatedly over the head with it, to no avail.

She was just about to give up struggling when a flying rock sailed over her head and hit the Copper square in the face. The Copper's hand instinctively went up to protect his face, allowing Edith to wriggle free. She spun round to see Bertie standing there with his hand outstretched. She grabbed a hold of it and sprinted down the alley, tugging Bertie along behind her, the carrot still firmly clasped in her hand.

Finally they ceased to hear footsteps behind them and they collapsed against a wall, faces red and sweat dripping down their faces. They panted heavily, struggling for breath. Edith gasped for air, her chest feeling sore and tight.

Having regained her breath, she screwed up her skirt and used it to wipe the blood off her fist. All this for a carrot? She snapped the carrot in two and offered Bertie one half, careful to make sure the thicker slide was slightly shorter so that they both had their fair share. They wolfed down the carrot, the sweet juice doing something to alleviate their rapidly growing thirst.

"We ought to get moving," Bertie said eventually, "We're not going to find this Mrs Crawley by sitting here,"

Edith's legs groaned as she forced herself onto her feet. They made their way to a thriving high street, where well to dos paraded up and down in their squeaky shoes and starched coats and jaunty hats. Spotting a pretty young woman with two children, Edith walked over to her and brushed herself off in the hope of looking a bit more respectable, thinking that maybe a mother would show a bit of compassion for two parentless children, only to be shooed aside by like a mangy dog. This happened again and again. Some even prodded them with walking sticks or umbrellas, and one stern old lady that had what appeared to be a crow on her head had whacked at them with a handbag.

The sun began to fade and still no one had spoken to them. As the sun turned in for the night, the cold wrapped itself round Edith like two arms, slipping down the back of her shirt and down her back, making her shudder.

Eventually they found shelter under an archway and huddled beneath it as heaby droplets of rain began to fall. Edith pressed up against Bertie and rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping both her arms round his forearms.

Somehow, in spite of the rain biting at their cheeks and the constant pangs of hunger in their bellies, they drifted off. As they did, Bertie gently ran his fingers through Edith's matted, tousled hair, causing her to smile. Feeling his warm body against hers, she could not help but feel that they would be ok in the end, despite it all.


End file.
